Dad's blog is now public and anyone can read it.
I've gone through and removed all (I think) sensitive personal information and email addresses spanning the last two-and-a-half years of blogging. I may consolidate some earlier posts so a reader may get a better feel for the story. There will also be a "Legacy Video" Page where all the videos will be consolidated.
If you find a post that is inappropriate, please let me know. On the other hand if you have an idea to make this blog better, feel free to make it so.
On October 21st, 2012, our father, William Harrer, lost his battle with lymphoma. Through the last years of his life, we (his five kids) blogged about what was happening. It tells a story of how one family dealt with the end of their father's life. We thought if it can help a family with similar struggles, he would very much want that, and so we are making our blog public. You can read Dad's obit on the page "Dad's Life in a Nutshell" and see for yourself what an amazing life he had.
Monday, October 29, 2012
Sunday, October 28, 2012
The Radio
Ranae is planting flowers outside. It was quiet and I thought I would get the radio I picked up from Dad's workbench in the garage. I had tried it there and knew the switches were dirty so I took it in my room and sprayed some contact cleaner on the on/off and tuning switches, turned it on and, this is the absolute truth, the first song I heard was the last 30 seconds of The Wish, by Rascal Flats. I had never heard that song before Tom sent me the link a few weeks ago.
I tuned the radio to a rock station and put it outside with Ranae and came in to blog this. She just hollered through the door that it was playing "Hell's Bells". Maybe Tom should have this radio.
I tuned the radio to a rock station and put it outside with Ranae and came in to blog this. She just hollered through the door that it was playing "Hell's Bells". Maybe Tom should have this radio.
Friday, October 26, 2012
Once a Marine, Always a Marine – Semper Fi
My Dad passed away peacefully in the early morning hours of October 21, 2012. It was a Sunday.
At the age of 17, he joined the United States Marine Corp in June of 1941, after finishing boot camp in San Diego, he was stationed at Naval Station, Pearl Harbor, Hawaii sometime in August of 1941. On December 7th, 1941 – William E. Harrer survived the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor where 2,403 Americans lost their life. He received an honorable discharge from the Marines on October 17, 1945.
My Dad was a humble man; he didn't talk a lot about World War II or serving our country at Pearl Harbor, Iwo Jima and Guam. I was almost 40 before be really shared his wartime experiences with his family. We planned a family reunion in Hawaii and Dad took our families, including his 10 grandchildren to the joint base Pearl Harbor-Hickam field and gave us a tour while he relived the ordeal in vivid detail with his family. For the first time we learned he had kept a piece of shrapnel which nearly took his life that day.
Dad loved the Marines. He was proud to be one of the “Few Good Men”.
When the active Marine unit in Bakersfield, California got word of my Dad’s passing, they assembled a twelve-man honor guard and helped us close a truly beautiful memorial service with a full military funeral. Two Marines lifted his flag from the draped coffin as if it was floating in air, then a seven-man team fired 3 shots in harmony for a 21-gun salute, followed by a lone bugler playing taps somewhere off in the background. At the end taps, the flag was folded and passed through three Marines, by Rank, until a Marine commander knelt in front of my oldest brother, Tom, and said:
“On behalf of the President Of the United States, the Commandant of the United States Marine Corps, and a grateful Nation, please accept this flag as a symbol of our appreciation of your Father’s service to Country and Corps.”
It was the most beautiful tribute I could ever image.
Back when Dad joined the Marines in 1941, one of the Marine recruitment posters was, “Once a Marine, Always a Marine”. It was coined by a gung-ho Marine Corps master sergeant, Paul Woyshner in 1917. Years later, the Commandant of the Marine Corp made it official: Once the title "U.S. Marine" has been earned, it is retained. There are no ex-Marines or former-Marines. There are (1) active duty Marines, (2) retired Marines, (3) reserve Marines, and (4) Marine veterans. Once one has earned the title, he remains a Marine for life.
“Once a Marine, Always a Marine” is not a recruiting slogan today, it’s a way of life for those who serve. I did not comprehend or fully appreciate what these words meant until I felt it as I looked into every one of those twelve Marines’ eyes as they honored my father on that day. They truly lost one of their brothers as well.
God bless The United States Marine Corp, past, present and future.
At the age of 17, he joined the United States Marine Corp in June of 1941, after finishing boot camp in San Diego, he was stationed at Naval Station, Pearl Harbor, Hawaii sometime in August of 1941. On December 7th, 1941 – William E. Harrer survived the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor where 2,403 Americans lost their life. He received an honorable discharge from the Marines on October 17, 1945.
My Dad was a humble man; he didn't talk a lot about World War II or serving our country at Pearl Harbor, Iwo Jima and Guam. I was almost 40 before be really shared his wartime experiences with his family. We planned a family reunion in Hawaii and Dad took our families, including his 10 grandchildren to the joint base Pearl Harbor-Hickam field and gave us a tour while he relived the ordeal in vivid detail with his family. For the first time we learned he had kept a piece of shrapnel which nearly took his life that day.
Dad loved the Marines. He was proud to be one of the “Few Good Men”.
When the active Marine unit in Bakersfield, California got word of my Dad’s passing, they assembled a twelve-man honor guard and helped us close a truly beautiful memorial service with a full military funeral. Two Marines lifted his flag from the draped coffin as if it was floating in air, then a seven-man team fired 3 shots in harmony for a 21-gun salute, followed by a lone bugler playing taps somewhere off in the background. At the end taps, the flag was folded and passed through three Marines, by Rank, until a Marine commander knelt in front of my oldest brother, Tom, and said:
“On behalf of the President Of the United States, the Commandant of the United States Marine Corps, and a grateful Nation, please accept this flag as a symbol of our appreciation of your Father’s service to Country and Corps.”
It was the most beautiful tribute I could ever image.
Back when Dad joined the Marines in 1941, one of the Marine recruitment posters was, “Once a Marine, Always a Marine”. It was coined by a gung-ho Marine Corps master sergeant, Paul Woyshner in 1917. Years later, the Commandant of the Marine Corp made it official: Once the title "U.S. Marine" has been earned, it is retained. There are no ex-Marines or former-Marines. There are (1) active duty Marines, (2) retired Marines, (3) reserve Marines, and (4) Marine veterans. Once one has earned the title, he remains a Marine for life.
“Once a Marine, Always a Marine” is not a recruiting slogan today, it’s a way of life for those who serve. I did not comprehend or fully appreciate what these words meant until I felt it as I looked into every one of those twelve Marines’ eyes as they honored my father on that day. They truly lost one of their brothers as well.
God bless The United States Marine Corp, past, present and future.
John's Eulogy - Learn By Doing
Learn By Doing
You can't get Life Experience if You Do Not Live
I was fifteen and a half. As all the Harrer boys, I had been saving my money for a car. Dad liked auctions. We were at the County auction as we were most every year. It was Billy’s year to get a car. Tom had gotten one the year before. Mine turn would come next year. Bill had a budget, found his car, and gave Dad the money to bid on it for him. Sold. Dad and I sat there watching the rest of the cars move through the auctioneer’s gavel. He asks, “What do you think of this one?” I was 15, anything with tires and a steering wheel looked great. Next thing I know he bid on and bought that car with the stipulation I pay him back before my sixteenth birthday. Painful but doable. When it was finally mine he gave me a gas credit card mainly for emergencies, but we could use it, again with a stipulation – the bill gets paid in full at the end of each month.
Things went along well for about six months when, despite the fact gas prices were under fifty cents a gallon, I managed to charge ninety dollars in gasoline. I was studying when he walked in my room and said, “Here’s you gas bill. It’s ninety bucks”.
My jaw dropped! I had not kept track. “How much?! Ninety! I..I don’t have it.”
“Okay, I need the card back. Pay me what you can, and the rest I’ll take in installments.” Nothing else was said.
Three months later I left the check for the final installment quietly on his desk – proud it was paid off – ashamed I had done it in the first place. Later that evening he walked into my room and said, “Here’s your credit card back.”
“Oh, no. I don’t want to have anything to do with that. I learned my lesson”
“Not quite. You learned how to use it the wrong way. Now learn how to use it the right way,” he placed the card in my hand turned and left.
That’s the way he taught us – by example. Always right there in the trenches with us. Even these last two months. On every day I was with him, we never failed to share a smile or a laugh together. Even at the darkest times. He was teaching. By example. We were in the trenches together. Preparing me for the last and most difficult chapter. The chapter that doesn’t include rubbing his shoulders, hearing his voice, or sharing a game of 5-straight.
Thanks, Dad, for being a father and setting the best example for what a man is supposed to be. For being a business partner and showing me how integrity spills out beyond family. For being a friend and sharing tennis and dancing and even doctor’s appointments. For encouraging me to never stop learning something new.
You gave me the greatest life a boy could ever hope for. Good-bye, Dad.
Tom's Eulogy - Dad's Legacy
“Hi Dad, are you coming over for Sunday Night Dinner?”
(pause)
“Mary and I are going to the Elephant Bar, do you want to come along?”
(pause)
“Grant has a two day Tournament this weekend down South. The first game is at 8:30 Saturday morning. Can you leave on Friday? “
(pause)
“How would you like to spent Father's Day at Torrey Pines in San Diego watching a bunch of golfers battle for the honor of lifting the U S Open Cup?”
(pause)
His answer was always “SURE”.
Those are only some of the memories I will cherish forever.
As I look back over the memories, one thing comes to my mind: "What is Dad’s legacy?" What will he leave behind?
Out of the corner of my eye I see my sister Cathi in the dining room at Rosewood looking across at a man sitting all alone for dinner. She walks across the room, “Hi my is name Cathi, what's yours?” “Chuck”. “Chuck, my Dad has some room at his table, would you like to join him?” They became “Best Buddies”.
Out of another corner of my eye I see my brother Bill, walking Mary Moon, a patient we think is suffering from dementia, back to her room. “Is this my room?” “Yes, MARY this is your room.” She gives out a big smile.
Another image is my brother John, he was always the first to visit Dad in morning, making sure his coffee wasn't too hot, and his scrambled eggs were cut up. I had heard of a blog, but wasn't quite sure exactly what a blog was, but oh, can the man write! Each day we couldn't wait to read his blog about his morning visit with Dad.
Another image, it’s my brother Jim. Just like the first couple of weeks of football practice, when Dad arrived at Rosewood it was double sessions - 30 minutes of therapy in morning and another 30 minutes in the afternoon. Jim got to know every therapist by their first name. “Come on Dad, one more for Tina.”
So his legacy is getting a little clearer to me. One of his last doctors' appointments was with Dr. Heidari. Dad was too sick to go, but I had same questions for the doctor, so off I went. After all the questions were answered, just as I was leaving, Dr Heidari said, “Tom I have one more thing to share with you. I can only hope I have raised my two sons in the same manner as your Dad has raised his children.” Now, it’s perfectly clear to me the legacy my Dad will leave behind.
So as I raise my glass and toast to this kind and gentle man, that taught me so much, I know on the other side is my Mom, also raising her glass with all her friends and family, saying “Welcome home, welcome home Honey”.
Bill & Ben's Eulogy "Life isn't about how to survive the storm, but how to dance in the rain”
I am Bill Harrer, the 3rd and middle child of Bill and Kaye
Harrer and Yes, I am the favorite child.
Well, actually any of us could have raised our hands, because Dad had a
way of making us all feel like we were his favorite. I would like to thank you
all for coming today to help celebrate the life of our Dad.
I have also been honored to be named after my Dad, a honor
that I have cherished all of my life and something that I have given to my
first son, who in turn has given to his only son. I know they will cherish that honor as much
as I do.
One of the special things that Dad liked was to make
birthday, Christmas, anniversary or other special day cards for his friends and
family. I had already written two
eulogies for my Dad when I came across a handwritten note from Dad in a box of
cards that Dad was working on.
It simply said: "Life isn't about how to survive the storm, but how to
dance in the rain”. This note from him
seemed like the perfect metaphor for his life, something he did extremely
well. He loved to dance and he could
always see the sunshine through the clouds.
As I watched my Dad body fail him over the past five months,
I came to learn that this quote may have been as much for him as it was for
someone else.
Dad's life was not a simple life, being born in 1923 he grew
up during the depression era. That
coupled with the fact that his father's had a tragic accident when Dad was 5 or 6 meant that he would grow
up without a father, but he and his two brothers and two sisters learned how to
dance in the rain at a very young age.
Dad never complained about not having a father, or being
poor, or going into the service and being stationed in Hawaii only to have his
tranquility disrupted after two weeks, on that infamous Dec 7th day. No, he
talked about what fun he had with his brothers and sisters, what his Mom went
through to ensure the children were raised properly and how nice Hawaii
was. He didn't know adversity because he
refused to let it dampen his spirits. When
it rained in Dad's life, he just figured it was time to learn a new dance.
His life was not easy, but you couldn't tell how hard it was
because he was too busy having fun living.
When my Mom, his wife, died in 2002, Dad didn't quit living,
no, he dug deep and strengthened his friendship with existing friends and went
out and developed new friendships. And
for those friends of Dads that played tennis with him 3 times per week and
danced with him, I would like to thank you being an important part of his life.
Dad also began to travel more and see the world, something
he had wanted to do since joining the Marines in June 1941. Dad traveled to China, Germany, Austria,
Italy and Switzerland. He went on
cruises to the Caribbean and from Boston north to Canada. I was fortunate enough to travel with Dad on
many trips and Dad was about loving the moment, his family and his friends.
Even in his final months as he struggled at the Nursing
Home, Dad made some good friends with the other patients and staff. They all came to know and love him because he
was not burdened by caring a chip on his shoulders. He enjoyed these new people that he met and
treated them with love and kindness and in turn was treated with an abundance
of love and kindness.
I am sure if Dad was here today, that he would tell you that
no matter when you were born, that rain is going to fall during your lifetime
and that you would be much better off learning to dance in the rain, then
pretending it is not raining or trying to wait out the storm. That it was some of those times while he was
dancing in the rain that he found himself enjoying life the most. That even though the clouds might come and
block the sun, the sun still shines for us and those clouds will eventually
pass. It is what you do while those
clouds block the sun that defines you as a person.
For those that knew my Dad, knows he loved to dance, rain or
shine.
Thanks Dad for always putting us kids first, for coaching me
in baseball, for exploring the world with me and for teaching me how to
dance.
Now I would like to invite my Grandson Ben up. Ben is my daughter Sarah's 2nd child and one
of Double G's 10 Great Grandchildren.
Ben last saw his Double G just about three weeks ago when my Dad's
hearing had worsened and we had rigged up a set of headphones with an amplifier
to allow Dad to hear us. Ben enjoyed
talking with Double G and especially liked talking into the amplifier. Dad commented after Sarah, Rob and the kids
had left that Ben was destined to be newscaster or reporter the way he loved
talking into that microphone. Dad really
cherished the time he spent with his Great Grand-kids.
Ben, upon learning of Double G's passing and subsequent
services today, asked if he could speak.
He was concerned that Double G might not be able to hear him, but Sarah
and Rob have assured him that he will be listening and will be extremely proud
to hear him talk. Sarah and Ben have
worked with the other Great-grandchildren to identify what made Double G so
special to them.
Ben.....
I want to
share with you the Great Grand-kid’s favorite memories of Double G.
Grant and Kyle both loved playing 5 Straight and the cad game Golf with
Double G.
Hailey liked that every time she saw him he
was smiling.
Drake said that he had funny jokes.
Cooper loved the cards that Double G would
make him for his birthday.
Taylor said that she like his hugs.
Sam said that he was very nice and brave.
Claire said that Double G was very, very
kind.
We will miss
Double G and we love him very much.
Dear Dad - (Catie's Euology)
Dear Dad:
I miss you already. Over the past 6 months, I watched you fight
the battle of your life. So many times, we would gather around you thinking
this was it, and yet you fought to stay, you fought to tell us one more story,
to give one more kiss, to say one more “I love you.” And so now, with the
reality that your final day came I say.. no, wait a minute, I’m not ready.
To share this last month with you and the boys, by
your side, learning more about you, watching your strength as you faced each
day during this illness, was awe-inspiring.
To sit on the side of your bed, with my head on your shoulder while we
cried together and then fifteen minutes later getting beat in a game of 5
Straight, as you bucked up for me, helped me to focus on remembering the life I
had being your daughter… not the sadness of not having those moments with you
anymore.
You were the perfect father, advisor, friend and
partner in crime. Whether I was getting
in trouble as a teenager ~ or moving to
Los Angeles to ‘be on my own’, taking the leap to move to Utah, even though I
would be so far away from family, going back to school at 50, or any other
decision I’ve made, you were always there to say either “learn from it, and
then it isn’t a mistake” or “go for it, you never know until you try”. What a wonderful example of how to live life
to it’s fullest.
Dad, I will always cherish the memories I have of
you with my children, whether it was playing tennis or just hanging out, you
gave them someone to admire, to love and to learn from. And I have a favorite
memory – when we went together to visit Jim in Bend. We decided to drive home
down the Northern California Coast where the roads were wind ee ...a dadism, "man, you can see yourself comin and
goin on this road” We decided to spend
the night so we could enjoy Mendocino the next day, but because of a big reggae
festival we couldn’t find a hotel room anywhere. Finally, after over 12 hours on the road we
pulled in to a Denny’s parking lot and slept in the car. You never complained, even though the
quarters within the Ford were small and the weather was cold and dreary. We got up early the next morning and went in
to Denny’s for a hot breakfast. As we were having a cup of coffee, you lifted
your cup for a toast and said, “Hon, next time we want to do a bed and
breakfast, let’s not get it backwards, okay hon?” We laughed, finished our
breakfast and went off on an adventure to find the glass beach. You sent me
down the side of a cliff to pick glass pebbles and then held out your hand to
help me back up. You were always doing that, Dad. It was a perfect vacation.
So, THANK YOU Dad, for being the person who set the
bar for the man I wanted to marry and the sons I wanted to raise. Thank you for being someone who would inform
my daughter on what to expect from a hard-working, honest and decent man. Thank you for always looking forward and only
looking back with gratitude, love and fondness for the opportunities you were
given and the choices you made from those opportunities. Thank you for giving me the strength to
spread my wings and explore what life had in store for me, it took me around
the world and settled me exactly where I was meant to be. I am grateful that you are you and I am
blessed that my eyes were open enough to recognize the true sparkle of you. You are truly a one-in-a million man.
I am deeply proud of your accomplishments, your
service to family, God and Country. And
finally Dad, thank you for providing us with a strong, loving home where now,
we can all face this difficult time together.
That home is always in my heart, no matter where I am or how far away I
might be and because of you, I know we will all make it through this painful
experience together, with love and comfort. Give mom a hug and kiss from all of
us and remember your promise. It was one of the last nights we had together
while you were still able to speak, you told me not to worry, I said, But Dad,
I’m, scared.. and after a few minutes you said, Don’t worry hon, I’ll always
find you”. I love you Dad, with all my
heart, and then some.
Your Daughter, Cathi.
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